


Severance

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: CW Torture, Finally I can pick up where I left off with Inopportune Moments and not just write half-finished AUs, Hard Kylux, Honestly yall should know my brand by now, I don't know what canon is and I don't care, If you hated TLJ then you will really hate this fic, M/M, Really Hard Kylux, my city now, tw abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:32:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hux needs to stay awake. Ren needs to keep Hux under control. Tarr needs to get his final paycheck from the First Order. A conflict of interest is very much inevitable.





	1. Two Missed Check-Ins

“Coffee, sir?” Paze’s face was somewhat more desiccated than usual.

“No, thank you,” Hux replied. He was scrolling through his inbox, willing his eyes to focus on just one subject line. Would anybody notice if he deleted every single one of these?

He physically flinched when his datatab chirped.

Kannady was becoming one of those officers whose holomail address made Hux’s ulcers start spontaneously bleeding. He was nice enough, yes, and easy to work with, and his rapport with his crew was an irreplaceable resource. Still, he was from a different era, and this was reflected in nothing more profoundly than in the way he used holomail. The longer Hux went without any sleep, the more difficult it became to restrain himself from audibly howling at him to  _ please  _ shut up.

“Sir, I have an hourly.”

Hux looked up at Paze. He forgot what he was going to say.

“Sir?”

“Oh.” Hux shook his head briefly. “Go on.”

“HD-34,” Paze said. “Bring us two cups of coffee, one black, one sweet.”

“I’m fine, Petty Officer.” Hux rolled his eyes and walked toward the other side of the bridge. “Continue with the report.”

His aide kept pace beside him. The familiar drone of his voice was a sedative, a restorative, reminding him of...of.

Hux stopped in his tracks. “What did you say?” he said.

“That the coolant leak on the Deck 5 dicfer assembly has been resolved, sir,” Paze said.

“Excellent,” Hux said. “A commendation for the officer in charge.”

“Sir, this was a minor mechanical failure addressed by a droid and two Stormtroopers,” Paze said. “Here, have some coffee.”

“I’d prefer not to,” Hux said. The thought of any food or drink hitting his twisting stomach was almost enough in itself to make him vomit. He turned to his datatab and opened the message from Kannady. It was a picture of a very badly-rigged remote arming circuitboard with the caption OPTIMIZED.

Hux pressed his lips together to suppress a burst of laughter. He failed. The longer he looked at the picture on his commtab, the funnier it became. He heard a warped giggle leap out of his throat. His ribcage shook.

He fell to his knees with a shriek that even he himself couldn’t distinguish from a cry of pain.

***

The medical droid protested quietly as Captain Opan shoved it out the door and shut it behind him.

Hux, still loopy from the sedative he’d been administered, had to smile at the man’s pragmatism. He did not smile as he approached Hux’s cot. He usually failed to see the humor in this kind of situation. That was why he was still alive.

“Sir.”

“Captain.” Hux lifted a hand. “How much time have I lost?”

“Only four hours, sir,” Opan said. “The droid insists that you remain here for four…”

“I’m well aware of what the droid insists,” Hux said. “It has not been programmed to prioritize the dominance of the First Order over my own personal weakness.”

“A shame,” Opan said. He was already going through the medbay’s cabinets. “Here.” He pulled a vial from a cabinet and a brass stim gun from one of his coat pockets. A few clicks later, he handed the loaded gun to Hux. “I’ll see you on the bridge.”

Hux had his breeches down to his knees by the time the door had opened. By his calculations, he had managed fifty-two hours this time without stopping to rest. If Opan could keep finding him stims, this next stretch might be longer yet.

***

When he returned, Hux found the bridge to be in much the same state of organized frenzy as it had been in when he’d had that unfortunate lapse. 

Paze greeted him at the doorway with something approaching a smile on his face. “Sir.”

“Petty Officer.”

“You have an urgent communique waiting from Intelligence.” Paze handed Hux his datatab.

“Of course I do,” Hux said. He snatched the datatab from Paze and opened his holomail. Sure enough, an L5 from General Tapikk was blinking red at the top of his inbox.

Hux walked along the bridge and kept his face still as he read the message. Landa had now missed two scheduled check-ins, and their safety man had not been able to locate him.

“I wish I could go missing on Canto Bight for a week,” Hux muttered to himself. “If they’re going to insist I rest, I could…”

“General Hux.”

Ren’s voice had changed somehow since he’d woken up from the bacta. It was quieter, slacker. That was the scavenger’s fault. Nothing Hux had done - nothing they’d done - could possibly account for the shift, for the new strangeness to their brief conversations. Neither one of them had touched the other since they’d returned to the fleet.

“Yes?” Hux closed his inbox and held his datatab to his chest.

“Colonel Landa is missing.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Hux said. “That was in fact the purpose of the private, highly confidential holomessage from Intelligence which we were both directed to keep secret from…” He gestured around the bridge. “...All but three of the people in this room.”

“Without the processor from TynaCorp, our active tracker cannot…”

“Again, another fact that I have already learned in a high-security holomessage,” Hux said. “Can we continue this in a better location?” He smiled for a moment. “Perhaps the Stormtrooper locker room on Deck Three?”

Ren stiffened, drew back slightly from Hux. “You wish to speak alone.”

“I think ‘wish’ is a little strong for my feelings about this conversation,” Hux said. “But if we must have it, we cannot have it here.”

He turned and walked toward the doorway of the bridge. Ren followed without being beckoned. Hux cleared his throat, certain he was imagining the tightness around it.

***

CANTO BIGHT - 0200 HOURS-

 

Will leaned his good shoulder against the stall’s doorway as he surveyed his work. The man on the ground in front of him was...well, he was recognizable if you knew him well enough. But a stranger walking in might hesitate a moment before clocking his species, let alone his rank and sympathies.

“You know, I could be up there right now,” he said, pointing down the aisle toward the racetrack. “A beer in my hand. A woman in my lap.”

“A woman?” His captive’s voice was sharper than the smell of cat piss down here. “Really?”

“You’re right,” Will said. “I haven’t decided yet.” He stood up straight again and picked up the broom handle from where it was resting. “And if you tell me where the money is by the time you still have teeth, I might get a man  _ and  _ a woman.”

“The First Order will find you, Tarr,” said the man lying in the fouled sand. “No matter what you do to me. No matter how much you steal from…”

A nice crack across the neck was enough to shut him up.

“I did fifteen years of combat duty for you sons of bitches,” Tarr said. “Fifteen. No wood-paneled office, no opera recordings, no fine Correlian cigars, no plush planetside missions to pick up a fucking datastick.” His hands clenched around the broom handle. “Fifteen years, Landa, and what do I get for my trouble?”

“Such a victim, Tarr.” Even now, he could manage a smile if it would enrage Will. “Do you think your so-called service will merit payment after this?”

“Don’t talk to me about merit, you desk-humping can of sentient fryer grease,” Will said. “Your blood’s worth just as much as mine when it’s on the ground.”

“Are you certain of that?” Landa said. “You seem...very hesitant to kill me.”

“I thought you had to have a better grasp of torture than that to get that far in the First Order,” Will said. “Or do your superior genetics let you get information from dead men?”

“There is no cash, Tarr,” Landa said. “The payment was processed remotely long before I came to Canto Bight for the product.”

“Wrong.” Will rewarded him with a blow to his side that knocked him flat in the straw. “Every idiot in the galaxy knows you at least have to take bribe cash with you to Canto Bight…”

“You aren’t torturing me for my bribe cash,” Landa said. “Four years of back pay? You’re after TynaCorp’s share of the…”

He screamed when Will brought the broom handle down on the top of his head. He screamed again when Will smashed his exposed right jaw with it. After the second crack on the side of the head, he didn’t scream anymore.

It took a while. Eight, nine good hard blows with the broom handle. Enough to bend the pipe a little. When he was done, Will rested his weapon on one shoulder and walked out of the stall.

“He’s done,” he said. “You can put the cat back in.”

Gahar stroked the cheek of the beast she was holding by its chain. “You got names?” she said.

“I got a name,” Will said. “Tough nut to crack, that one.”


	2. Two Sales in the Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can buy and sell pretty much anything in Canto Bight.

Hux took a moment to steady himself on the arms of his chair while the stim kicked in. For a brief, eternal moment he could feel _everything_ : the microtears in his skin, the spasming of his thigh muscle where he’d applied the gun, the rough fibers of his breeches’ fabric, the soft, cool vinyl of the chair.

His breath came out in a shudder, and it was gone.

“Shall I patch him through?” If Paze was unsettled by his commander sitting beside him with his hands clenched and his pasty legs bared, he did not show it.

Of course he wasn’t unsettled. Paze had dressed and undressed around other men his entire life without succumbing to Hux’s particular weaknesses. It probably never occurred to him that Hux would, that Hux was…

Hux forced a spearshaft of cold air down into his lungs. “Yes,” he said, arching his back to pull his breeches back up. “Yes, patch him through.”

“-If you could give me just...Oh. Oh, shit. General! General Hux!” The flickering grey projection of Reeh Chardn’drix turned to the camera with wide eyes and an artificial smile. “Great to see you, buddy, uh, sir! Great.” He shut his mouth and looked down at his lap. “Great to see you, Sir.”

“Is it?” Hux did not return Chardn’drix’s smile. “You seem somewhat surprised by my call.”

“Oh. No, Sir!” Chardn’drix said. “Um. I mean, we’ve had kind of a hectic week down here, and…”

“And you’ve been meeting frequently with Colonel Landa to discuss the implementation of Operation Ratcatcher, yes?”

There was no drink in Chardn’drix’s hands. He managed to choke briefly on it anyway.

“You are familiar with Colonel Landa, correct?” Hux leaned forward. “The intelligence liaison from the First Order? The First Order official whose job it is to liase with you concerning matters related to intelligence?” He blinked. “The officer specializing in intelligence who…”  
“Yes!” Chardn’drix flinched back. “Yes, Sir, I know who Colonel Landa is…”   
“And you’ve been meeting with him regu…”

“Uhh…”

“Actually, General.” Chardn’drix’s protocol droid leaned in to block Hux’s view of his master. “I have been synced with Colonel Landa’s calendar. I’ve been contacting him multiple times per day, attempting to finalize the transfer of the Operation Ratcatcher Documents.” The droid wobbled back and forth. “He has failed to meet us at every scheduled attempt.”

“And you have not notified us until this point because…”

“My programming does not…”

“You will not! Interrupt me! When I am speaking!” Hux’s legs propelled him out of his chair of their own accord. “Landa’s mission is vital to the continued success of the First Order’s eradication of the Resistance, and I demand an explanation for why you have failed to notify of us that he has gone missing!”

“Sir, I’m sure this is has a completely legitimate explanation,” Chardn’drix said. “Just...look, Sir. I can get you the code, uh, by another route.”

“Believe me, Mister Chardn’drix,” Hux said, “The First Order will be getting that code. It’s our intelligence offer and our twenty three million credits which remain to be discussed.”

“But General…”

“Later, JR3D,” Chardn’drix said, holding up one hand.

The protocol droid bowed slightly as it backed away.

Chardn’drix steepled his fingers and shut his eyes for a second as he inhaled. He opened them again and nodded slowly at Hux. “Look, General,” he said. “We are, at the end of the day, a software company. We can contribute to the First Order’s equipment, but we don’t really share your military expertise.”

“Then we will send you someone who does,” Hux said. “General Tapikk and her command staff will be arriving on Canto Bight shortly to assist you in finding Colonel Landa.”

Chardn’drix stood up, holding a hand out as if to stop Hux’s train of thought. “General, I think we can both find…”

“Until next time,” Hux said. He ended the holocall and stared into the space where the projection had been.

Paze cleared his throat. “Sir,” he said. “I’m looking at Tapikk’s schedule, and…”

“And I’m still her commanding officer,” Hux said. “Why don’t you get started on rewriting Tapikk’s schedule? I need to make a call in my quarters.”

“Yes, Sir,” Paze said.

Hux picked his datatab up from the side table and unlocked it. Phasma had sent him her daily report. He frowned. It occurred to him that it had been some time since he’d seen her face.

They’d have time for that later, he expected.

***

Ree sat back on the sofa with both hands over his mouth. JR-3D hovered over him, clasping his scratched chrome hands together.

“I’m going to handle this, Master Ree” JR-3D said. “Trust me. I’ve been programmed specifically to deal with military and…”

“You don’t get it,” Ree said. “These people aren’t _like_ the Republic military.” He was seeing Stormtroopers, he was seeing TIE Fighters and AT-STs, he was seeing his entire neighborhood in flames while General Tapikk herself shot him in the face for losing their intelligence officer. And their twenty-three million credits.

“My reprogramming allows me to deal with a variety of businessmen and contractors,” J3-RD said. “And I…”

“We have to get off this planet,” Ree said. “We have to go. Now. Get Gilfoyle while I get some shit, uh, packed.” He reached forward for his datatab, his heart racing in his throat. “Shit.”  
“Master Ree, Master Gilfoyle is not in the house right now.” J3-RD stood up straight.

“Then where is he?” Ree said.

“Master Ree, you have instructed me to avoid revealing stressful information at times when you are already…”

“Dammit, JR, I need to know where Gilfoyle is!” Ree stood up to look his droid in the eye. “Tell me…”

“He and DJ went to go look at a fathier for sale,” J3-RD said. “Down at the racetrack.”

***

Will’s head pounded as the crowd in the stands let up a roar. He put his lips to his straw and took a long drink of his healthy vodka-infused breakfast. His hand went to his wrist to unlock his commpiece, only to fall limp when he remembered he’d incinerated his commpiece shortly after storming out of Phasma’s office.

He looked at the wall clock instead. 1220. If Eri didn’t show, that was perfectly understandable. They had more than enough reasons to avoid Will after...after that whole stupid mess. He shouldn’t have even called them, especially not at that hour. He shouldn’t…

“No, we need a, we need a, we need a translator, uh, actually.” A voice out of the distant past drifted by him as a couple big men in black coats walked by the bar. “These uh, these uh guys, see, these guys? Uh, they’re uh, they’re not too good at, uh, at Basic, you know?”

Will looked down at his reflection on the bartop. A couple rounds of Reconditioning here and there hadn’t been terribly kind to him, but if DJ was good at one thing it was recognizing…

“But _we’ve_ got the power of the TynaCorp _brand!_ ”

Will’s head snapped around as the other man spoke. He was big, soft, with a scrungy little beard around his round jaws. He gestured excitedly to DJ while he went on about...something regarding business expertise.

TynaCorp already had the money. Right?

DJ was nodding along enthusiastically. He was _smiling._ He was smiling in a racetrack bar with an idiot who wouldn’t shut up about his brand. His brand, which was the name of a company that had recently processed a payment of twenty-three million First Order credits.

Will turned back to his healthful breakfast beverage. He didn’t have to watch those two in order to keep an eye on them in here.

***

Eventually, Ren was going to find him. The inevitability of Ren finding him had been hanging over his head by a thin string, ever since they’d returned to their duties.

Hux was answering e-mail when Ren’s masked visage appeared on his holodisplay.

“Yes?” Hux said.

“I need to speak with you. Five minutes.”

“You need to speak with me  _ for  _ five minutes, or…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the holodisplay shut off. Hux blinked at the empty air where it had been. He checked the time. 0330.

At 0332:50, the door to Hux’s office hissed open. Kylo Ren pried his mask off his face as if it had been suffocating him. “You did not tell me about sending General Tapikk to Canto Bight,” he said.

“I instructed Paze to make arrangements,” Hux said. “Surely you got the holomessage? It was very high security, probably great fun to read it aloud to every passing Stormtrooper.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Ren said. “I need to know these things.”

“Do you ever visit Phasma at three in the morning to complain about her doing her job according to…”

“Hux.” As Ren spoke, the air in the room seemed to grow prickly.

Hux wished he didn’t recognize the look in Ren’s eyes. He very much wished it didn’t stir anything in his breeches.

Apparently, Ren sensed his discomfort. An amused half-smile flashed across his face. He put his mask back on.

“Next time, you will inform me personally,” he said.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canto Bight wasn't Tarr's first stop.

**THREE WEEKS PREVIOUSLY**

 

Will’s throat tried to close against the rotted sweetness of the last two shots of Blaster Juice. He forced himself to swallow, and he kept swallowing for a few seconds because otherwise he was going to puke.

 

He had an hour.

 

At some point during all this, he heard the empty bottle drop on the greasy duracrete beneath his boots. It smashed into uncountable pieces. The sound rang against the walls of the little enclosure that housed the fuel station’s mini-compactors.

 

Once Will’s stomach stopped convulsing, he pushed himself up to a standing position and made his legs walk out of the little enclosure. He had to blink hard to keep his eyes focused on where he was going. Perfect. Perfect.

 

He felt in the pocket of his jacket for the box of razor blades he’d palmed from a Lightspeed a few blocks away. The FastMed wasn’t open this late. He should have waited. He…

 

At the sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, Will’s hand went to his sidearm. He aimed the blaster at the spot where he’d seen somebody. He scanned the area, eyes wide and back suddenly straight.

 

He didn’t find anything. He put his blaster back in its holster. He moved his legs back toward the light of the KwikCharge. If he was going to puke, he could at least make it to the bathroom.

 

He had an hour.

 

There’s a triangle on your face you can draw - just do it, okay? Draw it on your face. Draw the triangle, okay? Put your finger on the outer tip of your eyebrow. Thank you! Thank you, okay. Now, draw it in a straight line down to the point of you cheekbone. It’s okay if you gotta look that up on the holonet. Okay? Now, draw another straight line to that sensitive little cartilage chunk on the near side of your ear hole, the one Gahar has pierced (but you can’t see it when she’s on duty because she has a little monofilament loop through it). Now go back to the point of your eyebrow.

 

Will spent some time in the KwikCharge bathroom drawing that triangle while the sink’s water heated up. You couldn’t blame him for doing it, you know?

 

Once the water was hot enough, he squeezed some soap into the palm of his hand and scrubbed the area. Drinking didn’t really work, as a painkiller. It just got him to the point in his life where he could do this, and it would be fine. Eventually.

 

The first time he got the implant he got it in his ass cheek like every other Stormtrooper and TIE Fighter Pilot et cetera et cetera et cetera. It was cheapest to put it in the ass cheek with an eight gauge needle and have done with it.

 

Will told himself he couldn’t feel the edges of the cylinder pushing against his flesh as he scrubbed the skin with soap and water. He had less than an hour. He couldn’t touch his comm again until he was finished with this shit.

 

He was holding the razor blade by a thin blunt corner, just in the edge of his lips. He knew how filthy a human mouth was, but he had an hour, and  he was going to only be using the kitty-corner edge anyway.

 

Which was why he was careful to do his best to grip the blade by the same corner he held in his mouth. After this much liquor, it was a bit of a feat, but he got it done. He always got it done.

 

He knew this by heart. He had rehearsed it for weeks. Pinch your skin so the little chip is pressed up hard against the tissue, and zoop!

 

“Son of a fucking goddamn cunt bitch dick fuck shit lips FUCK!” Will clutched at his face, inhaling hard and exhaling sloppy and where was it? Where…

 

He spotted it clinging to the white side of the sink basin, nestled in a chunk of grainy white lymph. Silver and black and grey and covered in blood and

 

Will squeezed his nose shut before his knees hit the ground. He let his stomach hit him back, hard and black, his whole body pulsing on the fresher floor here in the middle of nowhere. He could taste the blood pouring out of the cut he’d made.

 

Less than an hour. Less than an hour. Less than an hour.

 

Once he was done puking, it was like an orbital sunrise - pure white, pure euphoria hitting his body. He was numb. He was fresh. He was clean. He really wanted to listen to Crystaster on full volume for a few hours.

 

William Tarr picked his body off the KwikCharge bathroom floor. For a moment, hiis eyes fixated on the First Order’s tracking divice, stuck by lymph and blood and maybe a little skin to the white wall of the sink.

 

He took a deep breath and he opened the door and he ran out of the store and out into the frigid night. That was done. He had a ride waiting for him. Now that he’d puked, he could probably take a few more shots.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out BugTongue's companion works for more elaboration on the Better Star Wars Universe


	4. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux smooths things over with Ren.

“Sir, there’s a holocoall for you from Forward Intel,” Unamo said. “Level Two.”

 

“Patch it through,” Hux said.

 

The ragged figure of Agent 87 flickered in front of him. He was a contractor of sorts, really nothing more than a glorified space pirate whose honestly came at an exorbitant price. “Morning, General,” he said.

 

“You have a report,” Hux replied.

 

“Awfully unfriendly today,” Agent 87 said. His words were loose-jointed and he swayed as he spoke. “Yeah, I got some news. It ain’t great news, but…”

 

“Out with it,” Hux said.

 

“The Resistance is spooked,” Agent 87 said. “They’re preparing for evacuation. You’d better hurry up with your fleet or you’re in for one hell of a chase.”

 

“I can’t imagine how the First Order has survived so long without your tactical advice,” Hux said. “Unamo, patch Kylo Ren in on the call.”

 

Unamo’s hand hesitated as she reached for the button in front of her. For a moment, she glanced at him with her dark lips parted, but it passed. With a barely-perceptible shake of her head she paged Kylo Ren.

 

Within seconds, an image of Ren appeared next to the image of Agent 87.

 

“What is it?” Ren said. His shoulders rose and fell with the rhythm of his breath. Hux noticed a stray lock of hair protruding from beneath his helmet. Where was he? What was he getting up to?

 

“One of our forward intelligence agents has reported that the Resistance is beginning to evacuate their base in the Ileenium system,” Hux said. “You’ve requested that I keep you abreast of these matters.”

 

He shouldn’t have said that. Not here, not in front of people who needed him to keep his head above Ren’s machinations. He frowned. Why was he doing this?

 

“Then we must prepare to hunt them down,” Ren said. “The fleet cannot stop until the Resistance has been crushed.”

 

“Then we are all in agreement,” Hux replied. “We will continue our pursuit of the Resistance until we have annihilated their very memory from the galaxy.” His fists tightened at his sides as he smiled at the projections in front of him. “Good day to both of you.”

 

The smile faded from Hux’s face as the projections vanished. What a fantastic waste of time.

 

“Paze, I need some coffee,” Hux said. “And the weekly review, if you have it prepared.”

 

“Right away, General.” Hux watched his aide as he went to harass a hospitality droid. At least someone knew how to get out of his way today.

 

***

The star destroyer’s supply of HypoStim vials was regrettably finite. Paze had an order out, but Hux was beginning to suspect he’d been attempting to use Landa for some one-stop shopping on Canto Bight. There was going to have to be a Conversation if that was really the case.

 

In any case, the little orange pills from Reconditioning were a poor replacement. They made his stomach clench and his teeth feel like they were producing radio signals. Maybe they were producing radio signals, or maybe there was something in the pills that activated whatever bizarre devices they’d snuck in while Hux was having his teeth cleaned or whatever.

 

There were rumors about that, about them putting things in your teeth while you were having a routine surgery done, or if you were hurt badly enough they had to put you under. Hux knew enough not to doubt it. Your teeth were enormous, if you really thought about it. There was really a lot of space for them to put, you know, microchips and transmitters and…

 

His desk’s comm buzzed. Hux stared at it. It was true. He did have something in his teeth. The pills must have been activating it, because why else would Ren be calling right now?

 

“What is it?” Hux said to the projection appearing above his desk. “What do you…”

 

“I’m on my way to your chambers,” Ren said. “As we discussed.”

 

The projection vanished, and Hux blinked at the space where it had been. What had they discussed? Was he missing something? When had they last spoken?

 

He was trying to figure out what he’d forgotten about that day when the door opened. Ren walked through, mask in hand. He carried it over to Hux’s desk like some kind of votive offering and set it down in front of Hux.

 

Hux looked at the mask. He looked up at Ren. He blinked.

 

“You are unsettled,” Ren said.

“Business as usual,” Hux said. He ran his tongue over the inside of his teeth. Were they humming? Why would they be humming? Why would you put all that money and effort into a dental tracking implant and then…

 

“Hux.” Ren’s face loomed closer out of the darkness.

 

Hux drew back. His breath shuddered into his chest. Ren’s face seemed to occupy, for a moment, the entirety of his field of vision. A planet, icy and uninhabited and close, too close, too suddenly close.

 

He yelped at the sensation of a hand on the side of his face. Ren had taken his gloves off. His long, graceful fingers traced the length of Hux’s jawbone, gently ruffled his whiskers on their way downward.

 

“Your thoughts are so frantic,” Ren said. “Shh - Don’t waste your strength.” He stood up, walked around the desk to crouch by Hux’s side. “I can feel it. I can feel everything. You can’t hide it from me.”

 

Hux opened his mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. His breath was quickening. His cock was swelling against his shorts.

 

“You never understood,” Ren said. “Even when you did it with your own hands. You still don’t understand what it means to take a life.”

 

“I’ve taken more lives than your entire order of monks and mercenaries,” Hux said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You keep forgetting that.”

 

“Ssshhh.” Ren slid one of his fingers over Hux’s bottom lip, pressed it down on his tongue. A shiver slid down Hux’s spine.

 

“You would have learned at the academy why they lace the Stormtroopers’ stims with carcifax,” Ren said. “You want them to be afraid.”

 

Ren’s finger was rough; its presence in his mouth, perverse. A bizarre mix of rage and arousal filled Hux’s body, made him squirm in his seat.

 

“You know what you want to do to me,” Ren said. “You’re afraid. You’ve always been afraid.”

 

For a second, the urge to slap Ren’s hand out of his mouth crossed Hux’s mind. But the more Hux contemplated the perversity of his situation, the more it made him want to do what Ren was suggesting. The desire, in turn, wreaked a new kind of terror on Hux’s brain. His breath was coming shakily and leaving in fits and starts. He felt tears slide down his cheek.

 

Ren slid his finger out of Hux’s mouth. He cupped his cheek with one of his huge, pale hands. One of his fingers traced the path of a tear down to the corner of his lip.

 

“You’re monstrous,” Hux said.

 

“So are you.” Ren stood up, leaned against Hux’s desk. For a second, a nervous smile crossed his face.

 

“Do you want me to…” Hux rolled his desk chair back so he could look Ren over. “Uh.”

 

Ren didn’t respond, but he did start undoing his trousers. As he pushed them down, Hux could see the lower half of the bandage around his side. That still hadn’t healed, had it? Of course it hadn’t. It hadn’t been that long. He was just...he was just…

 

He was getting on his knees to take a man’s cock in his mouth. He took the bulk of it in one hand first, contemplated what he was about to do. He couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his face, or the straining of his cock against his breeches.

 

Not really knowing how to proceed, Hux took Ren down his throat until he felt himself gag. He drew back and, well, he sucked Ren’s shaft back into his mouth. That was how this worked. He sucked, and he licked, and he murmured against the mass of flesh in his mouth until his jaws had grown tired.

 

He shut his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Ren’s unsettling eyes, watching him as his huge rough hands caressed his face, ruffled through his hair. Hux had never felt himself so weak, so prone, so utterly depraved as he was in this moment. He may as well, he reasoned, surrender himself to his sense of touch and his sense of lust and his…

 

Ren came in his throat without warning, with a strangled grunt of ecstasy as Hux’s mouth filled with the acrid taste. He drew back, forced himself to swallow, gagged on the sensation for a few seconds as he stared at the floor.

 

Hux looked up, one hand over his mouth, eyes wet from gagging and from shame and from such a long, long day full of so many different things. Ren was putting his cock away, dark hair hanging over his face, not looking at him.

 

“Get out,” Hux said. He was cold, and he was miserable, and he suddenly was so very very tired and he needed some more pills or something to eat or…

 

“You don’t want to be alone,” Ren said, suddenly staring him in the eyes.

 

“Get out!” Hux’s voice was ragged.

 

“General, I…” For a second, Ren stepped toward him, one hand outstretched. He paused mid-stride, suddenly very tall and very cold.

 

“Get out,” Hux said, his voice barely above a whisper. He suddenly wished very much that Ren would pick him up off the floor and hold him close, just so he could feel another body against his, something warm and stable and human against all this death that was suddenly so much all around him all the time.

 

But Ren turned around without a word and walked away. He picked his helmet up off the floor on his way out.

 

Hux slumped on the floor, curled up with his eyes open and his heart pounding in his chest. He had to stop letting Ren in here if he was going to be like this.

 


End file.
